


new guy

by sinead



Series: spy!sync [1]
Category: NSYNC, Popslash
Genre: Alternate Universe - Spy, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-11-14
Updated: 2009-11-14
Packaged: 2017-10-02 18:56:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,005
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9566
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sinead/pseuds/sinead
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>mission 'npossible: guns, explosions, disguises, sex, and if I could arrange for it, there'd be cheesy Lalo Schifrin theme music, too.</p><p>(First story in a series with no consecutive time line.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	new guy

 

"Got someone new for you to look at," Johnny said.

"Yeah?" Chris said idly. "For the talent pool?" They were at the Estate, in Johnny's office. Chris sometimes thought he could almost hear the whirr and click of the bugs as they recorded his voice, but not today.

"No," Johnny replied. "For your team." When Chris didn't reply, just sat and stared at him, he added smoothly, "You need to replace Jason."

"Joey--" Chris began, his voice tight.

"Joey's good. But we both know his limitations. You need a fifth operative."

In an earlier life, Chris might have mistaken the expression in Johnny's eyes for kindness, or compassion. "Time to move on, Chris." Johnny put his hands on the desk and stood up, gesturing to a file on the table at Chris' elbow. "He'll be here tomorrow. Have your team assembled." Once Johnny stood up, the meeting was over. Chris took the file and left.

In bed that night, Chris lay staring up into the dark. The file on this new guy was impressive, he had to grant that. Weapons expertise out the ass, electronics and explosive knowledge, which was what the team needed, and even some scene experience. There had been no photograph, no personal information, which Chris found more than a little disquieting. It meant Johnny had decided to leave that out, for some reason. All he knew about the prospective candidate was that he was male, which was not surprising. His team was one of two in the IMF that were all men; they did specialized work. And AJ's team was past it, in Chris' estimation.

He thought about Jason's disappearance. It was hard to see outside of the context of his own failure at losing a team member. _Time to move on._ Most days, he couldn't even remember what Jason looked like. He must have moved, or made a sound, because there was a stirring next to him in the bed.

"Chris," came Justin's muffled voice.

"It's okay," he said. "Go back to sleep."

* * *

The sun was bright the next morning as they waited on the lush green sweep of lawn that led to the training ground. Chris was briefly distracted by the red and gold highlights in Justin's hair. JC lay full length on the grass, his arms behind his head, designer sunglasses in place. Chris noted that he had cut the arms out of his t-shirt--again. He noted that there were finger sized bruises on his biceps, again, and guessed there were probably more on his hips. Have to remind them to knock that off before the next op, Chris thought. Bruises like that might tip off the mark. He still thought of their targets as "marks". A childhood spent working short cons on carny circuits had given him some habits that were hard to shake. Joey sat next to JC, wearing black Raybans and chewing a toothpick.

"Yo, Chris," he said. "This the guy?" He pointed with his chin.

Chris had sunglasses on too, but he shaded his eyes to watch the man approach. Fuck, he's young, thought Chris. He looked younger than Justin. He had seen them, too, but he didn't vary his speed, sauntering casually across the lawn. Like them, he was wearing the close fitting black pants and shirt that were standard training issue, but he looked like he was dressed for something other than training.

"Arrogant little cocksucker," Joey said. JC propped himself up on his elbows to watch. He got close enough to see his face, his eyes, and Chris thought, not so young as all that. Pretty, too. Well, that comes in handy. The man reached them and stopped, meeting their appraisal with a cool stare of his own.

Chris nodded at him. "Chris Kirkpatrick."

"Lance Bass, Mr. Kirkpatrick," came the reply. The voice was deep and soft, with a slight Southern accent. His eyes were clear and green as peridot, and about as revealing. Joey gave a little snort. Even Justin was smiling.

"Call me Chris." Probably some Quantico dropout, Chris thought dispassionately. They trained them up to be polite in Hooverland. "Let's get started."

Several hours later, he was beginning to think that Johnny might be on to something with this one. Lance had scored in the high nineties on every training exercise, both alone and with the team. His target shooting was exceptional, especially at long ranges.

"Must have been all that practice shooting squirrels, huh, bubba?" Joey said. Lance had smiled sweetly, meaninglessly.

"Guess it must have," he said.

Chris knew what lay behind that. Joey didn't trust pretty boys, not until he had fucked them, and usually, not even then. "Okay, let's try some hand-to-hand," Chris said. What the hell, may as well get it over with. "Joey."

Joey grinned, an expression that had been the last thing Chris had seen any number of times before he landed flat on his ass. Even Justin, who moved like a snake, and had a slight advantage in height, couldn't take Joey. Joey and Lance squared off, circling one another. Joey was still smiling. Lance was expressionless. He feinted to Joey's left, too slow, Chris thought, and then what happened next happened so fast he didn't see it. But Joey was on the ground, with Lance's knee in his groin, and Lance's knifepoint under his chin.

"Guess you need some more practice, huh, bubba," Lance said softly, and his smile was anything but meaningless.

"God_damn_," Justin breathed, next to Chris. JC was smirking.

Joey stared into Lance's face as he eased his knee off of Joey's groin. He sat back on Joey's thigh and slowly withdrew the knife. "Guess I know where to get more practice when I need it," Joey said. Their eyes didn't waver.

Chris walked over and gave Lance his hand, pulling him to his feet. Then he did the same for Joey. "Be here tomorrow at oh eight hundred," he said. "And Lance? Next time I say hand-to-hand, leave the knife in your boot."


End file.
